


Paper Stars

by SpoopyAlessia



Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: F/M, Howl's Moving Castle AU, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, This is gonna be a slow burn y'all, the whole gang's here too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-23 21:23:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18558130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpoopyAlessia/pseuds/SpoopyAlessia
Summary: Aloth's job was supposed to be easy: find the Watcher of the Wastes, figure out her weaknesses, then report back to the Leaden Key. Instead, he finds himself caught up in the Watcher's mission to find the cause of the Hollowborn in the Dyrwood and uncover a plot hidden for thousands of years.The clock is ticking for both of them though, and if Aloth can't find a way break both of their curses in time, all of Eora will suffer the consequences.However, they say that the best blaze brightest when circumstances are at their worst.(Howl's Moving Castle AU)





	Paper Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya y'all! This is my first time posting on AO3 and the first time stretching out my writing muscles in a long time! This was sort of an idea that came about while I was watching Howl's Moving Castle and being emotional at 3 am lol
> 
> This is going to be a good mash-up between the movie/book/and PoE1 story. At the moment I don't have a planned schedule of release except to try and post as often as I can, but college is a bitch!
> 
> Tags will be added as needed. I'm not planning on this being too intense particularly, but if anyone needs me to add anything, please ask!
> 
> Will be cross posted on tumblr as well under chilled-soul-speaker!
> 
> Without further ado, on with the show!

“Blasted…insufferable… _swamp!!”_ Aloth fumed as his leg sunk almost knee deep in the sludge once again.

It took a few long moments before he was able to wedge his boot out of the mud with a _slunk!_ He didn’t stick around long enough to watch the hole fill back up, instead preferring to find more solid ground only a few feet away. He found refuge under a twisted tree from the pounding rain that had started an hour before and made this trek absolutely _miserable_. Honestly, the locals in the town of Gilded Vale nearby made the Wastes past Esternwood sound like a lovely forest trek. This dark and gloomy Helscape was the complete opposite and he was sure that he had only traveled a few miles in the five or so hours he had been out here.

The elf was now regretting his decision to leave Gilded Vale today. He should have stayed in that dingy in with watered wine and uncomfortable beds. Compared to what he was expecting to sleep in tonight, The Black Hound was practically paradise.

He sighed. Even so, he couldn’t turn back now. An Acolyte had given Aloth a mission: to find and investigate the Watcher of the Wastes. Figure out their source of power and any weaknesses she may have, then report back for further instructions.

Easier said than done. While he was glad that he was trusted now with more high-profile work, the trouble it had caused him these past few weeks gave him headaches. Aloth’s irritability transferred to Iselmyr and she became petulant, starting fights with anyone who gave Aloth any trouble, adding to Aloth’s stress levels.

Then he heard wind of a strange keep _moving_ down from the mountains to the north of Gilded Vale a few years back. A strange alchemist visited the town and after, the women of Gilded Vale began giving birth to Hollowborn children. The Acolyte had told him that the Hollowborn epidemic had spread through the Dyrwood from that point, and that this Watcher had to have used a yet unseen form of Animancy to achieve this, breaking the cycle of souls in this country. The thought of those poor children, unblinking and barely alive, sickened him. They should be experiencing the life they had been born into, be able to experience joy, sorrow, and anger…

What kind of kith stole souls? And for what nefarious reason?

So here he was. Out here in the wilderness, splattered in mud and grass, and soaked to the bone. The locals had said that the castle had moved out directly east, into the fog that drifted from the mountains.

Aloth leaned out from his shelter to see if the rain had cleared up any of the fog. But it was useless, he could still only see a couple hundred feet ahead of him before the landscape dissipated in the mist.

“I might as well stop for the night,” he sighed out loud, “At least here I have some shelter from the rain.”

_Chin-chirring! Chirr-SNAPSNAP SNAAAAAAAP!_

The sudden cacophony of sound him made him spin back towards the tree, one hand on his scepter and the other on his grimoire.

It was just a broken scarecrow. It seemed as though it had been high in the branches before, and the rain must have soaked it until it was heavy enough to break from its perch and fall.

_‘Look at ye! Scared o’ a wee tattie-bogle!’_ Iselmyr mocked from the back of his mind. Rolling his eyes and pushing her influence back, Aloth relaxed and moved to throw the scarecrow away from his new resting spot.

Only he never got to. Before he had taken a single step, it began to shake and shift, the bells tied to the ‘arms’ of the scarecrow making a racket. As Aloth took a step backwards from it, the scarecrow bent its arms and pushed itself up onto its singular leg. Now fully erect, Aloth could see the entirety of it.

The miserable scarecrow wore a tattered black sack like it was some sort of dress, while small immaculate silver bells were lashed on its cross bar and chimed as they swayed. The most horrible thing by far though, was the head. It was made out some sort of root vegetable, but it was too long rotten to know what kind in this lighting, and it seemed as though dried grass had been tied onto it to act as some sort of long hair.

Aloth now held his scepter, ready to launch a bolt of energy as soon as it moved towards him.

But it didn’t. It just stood there, rain dripping off steadily. Even so, Aloth didn’t let his guard down. It was enchanted, that was certain. He had heard of some wizards animating objects with their magic, but the lack of a caster nearby made him doubt that was the case. Perhaps this was a feat of animancy. The normal case would have been a soul bound to armor so that it could fight in the stead of its master.  He started to circle the scarecrow slowly, scepter pointing at it. As he expected, the scarecrow turned with him to keep facing in his direction. He took a few steps backwards and the scarecrow hopped towards him. It was aware of him, but it was confusing that it did nothing but keep the same amount of distance between them.

At a loss, Aloth made a shooing gesture with his scepter, “Go away now! This is my resting spot!”

There was a long, eerie moment, with only the sound of the rain, as Aloth stared down the scarecrow, feeling rather stupid for trying to scare it off like some sort of animal.

Surprisingly though, the scarecrow made a sharp turn, and hopped off into the distance. Aloth watched and waited for the sound of the bells to disappear before he clipped his scepter back onto his belt. The whole situation only convinced him further that the Dyrwood was a strange country run amok with unchecked Animantic corruption.

After a few seconds, Aloth blinked in confusion. What had caused him to have that thought suddenly? Shaking his head, he decided that the exhaustion from such difficult travel had muddled his mind and he settled close to the tree. It was going to be a long, uncomfortable night camping out in the rain.

Not but a few hours later, he woke to the sound of bells again, and he remembered the strange construct that had run off. Looking up, the scarecrow now towered over him, this time with an oiled cloth stretched behind it, better sheltering him from the rain.

Thoroughly put off now, Aloth stood up to face the scarecrow, “You! Where did you get _that_ from?”

Unsurprisingly, the scarecrow did not answer.

“W-Well!” the elf was at a loss of what to do now. Although his first reaction was to just destroy it, the thought that there was some sort of soul attached to it made him uncomfortable to do so. After all, it hadn’t done anything to harm _him_.

Then a thought struck him suddenly, “Why don’t you go find a place for me to stay? Surely it would be better for me to find some place dry to sleep rather than underneath a tree!”

As expected, the scarecrow stood there before turning again and hopping off at a rapid pace, the cloth tied onto it flapping wildly.

For the first time in a long while, Aloth was proud of his cleverness. The nearest place to stay was The Black Hound Inn back in Gilded Vale, surely the scarecrow would get stuck in the mud somewhere along the line, or someone else would decide what to do with it. It was off his hands now.

Settling back into what was sure to be an uncomfortable night, Aloth forgot about the scarecrow and fell into a fitful doze.

The second time he woke up that night was more alarming. The earth shook slightly under him at a slow, rhythmic pace. Dead leaves and twigs fell on top of him at the next pulse. Aloth stood, keeping a hand on the trunk of the tree to balance himself and as he looked out, the sight that met him made his jaw drop.

Peeking out from behind the fog, he saw towers of stone, as well as adra moving closer at a halting pace, timed with the shaking of the ground. After a few moments, a keep phased into view, the entire building being held aloft by huge legs made of shining adra.

There was no doubt about it, this was the moving keep of the Watcher of the Wastes. And it was right. In. Front. Of. Him.

The sound of bells knocked him from his shocked trance, and he spotted the scarecrow in the distance in front of the keep heading towards him.

‘ _Th’ lad asks ye tae find ‘im a place tae stay, an ye brin a whole castle?!’_ Iselmyr exclaimed, ‘ _Yer aff yer heid!’_

For once, Aloth agreed with her, and watched as the keep moved closer and closer. The scarecrow arrived first and bounced, shaking its bells as though using it to direct the keep.

“What have you done?! Is the _Watcher_ your master?!” Aloth whispered as loudly as he dared. The keep was now only about a hundred feet away, and he could see the copper veins that traced artfully up the legs of the keep.

The keep stopped and the legs bent underneath it, settling into a kneeled sitting position. The scarecrow stopped hopping in place and moved forward for a bit before turning back to Aloth and bouncing.

Catching its meaning, Aloth asked, “Do you mean for me to get _closer_?!”

Bouncing a few more times, the scarecrow hopped forward another few feet and turned again.

Rubbing his forehead, Aloth reasoned that he would’ve come across the keep eventually, so he might as well take this opportunity to get back on track with his mission. He let the scarecrow lead him to a small door near the back of the keep.

“I suppose that’s the way in,” Aloth commented half to himself and half to the construct as he took a closer look at the structure, “This place is actually quite a wreck isn’t it? You would think that a moving keep covered in adra would look better than this.”

As if insulted by his comments, the keep started to shift and move up.

“Are you _really_ insulted by something like that?!” he asked incredulously as he ran up the stairs and flung open the door.

After he rushed in, the door slammed shut behind him and he heard a small _ping!_ as it did so. Aloth turned around and found that the small window set into the door was dark and he couldn’t see the outside anymore. Not even the sound of the rain could be heard. Deciding that was the least of his worries, now that he was in the _moving keep of the Watcher of the Wastes_ , he unclipped his scepter and walked up the winding staircase that was the only feature of this small foyer area.

It took a few minutes, and as he was beginning to wonder if the stairs ever stopped, he spotted firelight flickering from above.

What he expected to enter was an area that matched the ruined exterior of the keep but was surprised to see a spacious room with a large hearth. A long table was at the opposite wall and had stacks of books, bottles, and containers on top of it. Near the back of the room was a staircase that lead up, as well as a cabinet and wash basin. The hearth was crackling merrily in its large stone dais, a hook hung off the side with a large pot, and a strange stone bust of an elderly woman. The room was completely silent, and there was no sign that anyone was around. Strangely, nothing shook either, it was as if this place was not moving in the first place.

Sensing no immediate danger, Aloth walked towards the table to investigate, but kept an ear out for any sudden movements. The books generally seemed to be stacked by topic, herbology, alchemy, metaphysics, and interestingly a few tomes of chants. Most of the bottles were empty, but a few had been labeled with their use and names of people. A sheet of paper had the same names listed along with dates and costs, perhaps acting as some sort of ledger?

“If you would like, there’s a hook on the wall where you can hang your cloak,” a grandmotherly voice offered, “And sit near the fire, you have to be freezing!”

Aloth whirled around, dropping the paper he had been reading. Scepter at the ready, he couldn’t spot that anything had changed, but there was no doubt that someone had spoken.

“Over here, dear,” the voice spoke once more, a slight echo to her words. This time he felt as though a gentle hand turned his face so that he was looking directly at the stone bust, “There we go. I apologize, it has been a while since we’ve had a newcomer in these halls.”

He narrowed his eyes at the statue, “What, or rather, who are you?”

A small chuckle preceded her response, “You may call me ‘Steward’. I am the caretaker of this keep when its master is away. You can rest easy here, you are safe from all while you are in Caed Nua.”

“Begging your pardon, but this is the keep of the Watcher is it not?” Aloth pointed out. Despite this kind voice, he was of no mind to let his guard down. Something wasn’t right about this place.

The Steward sighed, “I suppose you have heard the rumors as well then? I do wish she wouldn’t let them run rampant as she has.”

“Rumors?”

“Of the Hollowborn. My Lady is trying to solve this epidemic, she did not cause it.” The Steward said this with such conviction that he almost believed her. Almost.

This was a well-timed opportunity, one that he couldn’t afford to give up. It would be advantageous to stay here in the keep to survey the Watcher’s actions. It wouldn’t be long at all before he could leave and report back to the Acolyte with his findings.

Choosing his words carefully, Aloth proceeded, “Well, I am glad that it seems the rumors are false. Would it be possible for me to speak with her in the morning about it?”

A wave of gratitude and warmth flowed from the statue, “The lady left with a companion of hers earlier in the day, they should be returning in the early afternoon tomorrow if they are able to keep with their schedule.”

A companion? That was certainly intriguing, he had only heard that the Watcher operated alone before this.

“Wonderful!” he exclaimed, wincing a little at the over-enthused tone he had injected into his voice, “I look forward to meeting her!”

“I’ll let her know that she has a guest waiting for her, that normally hurries her up,” the Steward commented, and he felt that if she could, the bust would have nodded slowly. “Until then, there’s a free room on the second floor, last door on the left. You’re welcome to stay there and down here in the common area while you wait.”

The door up the stairs creaked open, and he felt the presence of the Steward dim, as though she had left the area. A peculiar feeling, but not one unlike the one he experienced when he pushed Iselmyr past the mental wall he had built between them. Silence, but knowing that he was being watched.

He ignored the hooks that had been pointed out to him earlier but took note of the three or four capes hanging on them. It seemed that it was possible that the Watcher had more of these companions. That or she had a tendency to collect cloaks. Moving past them and up the stairs, he stopped on the second floor and saw fire light spilling from an open door at the end of the hall.

Despite his wariness of the place, he couldn’t help but admit how remarkable the keep was. It must have taken more than just one lifetime to have enchanted a place such as this and keep it running for years on end. He had no doubt that at least some animancy had been involved with the creation of this place, the existence of the Steward confirmed that much at least, but he could still appreciate the work that went into this keep’s creation.

The room he entered was rather simple. The walls made of smooth stone were bare except for the single slit of a window. from which he could see the marsh he had come in from. A bed, side table, and chest took up most of the room’s space, while a small hearth reminiscent of the one downstairs took up the far corner.

A single sheet of paper with neatly scrawled handwriting on the bed sheets informed him not to put out the hearth himself, instead requesting him to command the fire to dim or extinguish itself as needed. It seemed to Aloth that there was no part of this keep that was run without magic and he wondered why that magic hadn’t been extended to the exterior of the keep to fix its appearance.

Aloth warmed himself by the hearth for a while, taking care to dry off his outer clothing and gear as he did so. He fell into a daze, watching the flames crackle without any wood to sustain them. They seemed to have a strangely relaxing rhythm to the way they wavered. The weight of the entire day seemed to fall onto his shoulders at once as he remembered how little sleep he had gotten. He felt his eyes drift closed slowly…

“That’s quite the blood curse you have, child,” a voice curled out slyly from the fire, jolting him awake, “Did you come here thinking you could break it?”

Aloth blinked once, twice, thrice, unable to come to terms with what he was staring at.

The fire had changed from a comforting orange glow into a sickeningly blue-green hue. The flames themselves were twisted into a vaguely reptilian shape, with eyes made of golden sparks staring straight at him.

“B-blood curse?” he sputtered, unable to say much else. This had to be a dream, there was no way that there was a small wurm in his fire, and it was absolutely _impossible_ for some outsider to know about _th-_

“Yes…very ancient magic as well,” the voice sounded feminine, but was overlaid with a strange other-worldly tone, as though someone else spoke with them, “If I’m correct, it hasn’t been passed through your bloodline for too long has it? But it keeps you from speaking about it to keep it intact?”

Aloth gritted his teeth, very much wanted to say exactly what he thought about this creature’s tone and their meddling in his business but found it impossible to do so. The familiar twinge of pain in his jaw and temple regarding this topic grounded him.

The creature’s chuckling sounded like rocks tumbling over each other and sent yellowish sparks from what could be considered their mouth. He could feel the waves of smug victory from this creature and he abhorred it, “Why don’t we make a deal then”

“What deal?” he managed to spit out.

“I’ll break your curse,” they began, “If you manage to break my contract with the Watcher girl.”

“What makes you think that I’d be able to do that?”

“I watched from the fire downstairs as you poked around, wizard,” they spat the last word, causing sparks to fly, “You are the only one who has entered this keep who has the ability to navigate an ancient arcane contract and break it.”

“That may be the case; however, I do _not_ need help with-” his jaw tightened unnaturally, preventing him from speaking further.

At this, the eyes of the creature widened slightly, and their head stretched closer to his face, passing the boundary of the hearth. Strangely, there was no burning heat from the creature as it approached, instead, he felt as though a cool wind was flickering in its place.

“Oh? So, someone has offered to break the curse for you then?” they asked. Taking Aloth’s steely gaze as an affirmative, they laughed, “Oh child, they _lied_ to you. Maybe they said they could, but unless they’ve lived as long as I have, I doubt they have any idea of where to even _begin_ with it.”

“Why don’t you do it now then? Prove it to me?” It had been a long time since he had discussed his curse aloud with others and finding a way to make his point while avoiding the effects was proving more of a challenge than he remembered.

The creature drew back and gave a long, dramatic sigh, playing up their suffering, “Oh, I would if I could, child. Unfortunately, this contract prevents me from doing such a benevolent act!”

Aloth rolled his eyes at the ploy, “How convenient.”

The creature stopped in its antics and looked back at the elf, “It is the truth, but it seems as if I can’t convince you. The offer still stands, as long as you reside in this keep,” They paused for a moment, and there was a knowing glint in their eyes, “I think that you’ll become interested in this once you meet the Watcher.”

He gave the creature an incredulous look, “I don’t think it will come to that.”

“Oh, I think eventually you and I will become good friends,” the rough chuckle rumbled out of the creature once again, “I am called Sefyra, and you need only to call on me when you wish to accept my offer.”

At that declaration, the fire went out, sending green sparks into the air and darkness descended in the room.

It was at this point, that Aloth knew he had finally gotten into something that was way over his head.


End file.
